Do you hear what I hear?

My favorite Christmas song is "Do You Hear What I Hear?" There is a version of it by Third Day on the Christmas Offerings album. I sincerely wish that for each of my entries I could select a musical track to accompany the text you read. If I could choose one for this entry, it would be that song. I'm listening to it while I write, as many times as my roommate will let me, because it really captures the spirit of Christmas for me.

The news of Christ's birth, beginning with just a breath of the wind and a message to a humble lamb. The news spreads in a strange hierarchy, to shepherds, whose word was not trusted in court and to a child, who is the least likely to be listenened to. Then, the best part of all is that the little shepherd boy goes straight to the mighty king and is actually taken seriously when he tells the king about the Messiah. How awesome is the message of this song on so many levels!

I see the beauty of that favorite song of mine reflected in the amazing experience of Christmas I've had in Belfast. Christmas began as an idea, a message to be shared in plays, skits, and readings that would happen throughout the advent season. But Christmas infected my heart and came to me through the people I've come to love and know as dear friends here in Belfast. There is no way I could ever thank everyone for the myriad of gifts, cards, and well wishes I received this season. Today, Boxing Day, I stood in Frances' kitchen drying dishes and my heart was so full thinking of all the people who are now my extended family.

Christmas came to me through the youth at Whitehouse who put on an incredible Christmas Eve service, through visiting housebound and giving out potted plants, through sing alongs at a local nursing home and the Salvation Army, through people I served alongside or observed, through carols and the faces of children showing off their presents (even one putting Scooby Doo in the nativity!), through the people I work and worship with, and through the city itself. Now I see pictures on the walls of our house and think about how they are so familiar to me. I am already so changed by this experience and feel a bit of sadness that my Christmas in Belfast is coming to an end. It truly was a blessed Christmas and I hope that yours was the same.

home by another way

"So they worked out another route...and returned to their own country." (Matthew 2, The Message)

The wisemen, or scholars, were warned in a dream to go home by another way. I like The Message translation, "they worked out another route." Lately I have felt comraderie with the wisemen. It's not that I claim to be wise or even scholar, though like everyone at this time of year I am hoping to meet Jesus and experience the joy of Christ's birth. No, I feel like the wisemen are my kindred spirits because I've been faced with the possibility of having to work out another route.

I am loving Belfast these days. Most mornings when I wake up the sun is shining and I truly thank God for the miracle of sun and it's beauty on the hills behind our house. I walk down streets where the shops are now familiar and I've ventured down a few new ones either on purpose or by accident. I feel more confident, like I understand a bit better the people that I work with and the way things go. I think Frances said it best when she said about me, "When she first came she was a wee quiet thing and now she's a right cheeky little girl!" I'm feeling more like me and taking some good advice- lighten up!

That's why, I guess, I felt like the rug was pulled out from under me yesterday when I learned some things that have made me reconsider my route back to my own country. My previous blogs give a picture of my renewed passion for teaching and how much I value the gift of being a classroom teacher. My route has been, over the past 3 months, that I would return to teaching and almost step back in to the cookie cutter of the life I left behind. I felt I was learning to appreciate the immense joy of that life. Yet some part of me felt that God wasn't through and I wasn't just meant to tick away the months in Belfast. This experience is too much of a gift for it to just be that. And this must be a bit of what those wisemen felt. They went on a pilgrimage because of a star they had studied. Yet when they arrived they were overcome, their lives changed, and they had to return a different way because they were not the same.

So here I find myself recalculating my route, finding that I'm a bit scared about what else God will change while I'm in Belfast. But I also have a bit of a thrill-seeker feeling that I'm suddenly in this strange position and there is no telling what God has in store. I can feel the tremble of fear and excitement as I consider that God is shaking up my route. That means that He's in control. That means that He has concern for me, He has plans for me, and now is another chance to cling to trust in Him that He'll use my gifts to do what He wills.

I remember the feeling I had this time last year when I turned in my application to be a YAV. I felt like I had just jumped out of a metaphorical plane. But there was this amazingly awesome freedom in knowing that I had no control over my future and God would guide each and every step I took. When I think of how richly He has blessed my life in this year I am overcome. How can I worry and what should I be afraid of if He is the one doing the changing and charting the route.

So I have six months to live in Belfast, Northern Ireland. In the next six months I hope to wake up each day, whether sun or not, and completely and unabashedly live in the dancing joy of the gift of being here, sharing God's amazing, life-altering love with anyone who happens to get close enough to catch my joy.

Thank you for your prayers, thoughts, and support over these past months. I am learning so much about myself and about how alive and at work God is here in Northern Ireland and in the universal church. Peace, joy, and blessings to you as you prepare your heart during the season of Advent!

How beautiful are the feet of them that preach a gospel of peace

To prepare for our arrival in Northern Ireland, Doug sent us a briefing paper on the history of Northern Ireland. The paper was supposed to outline for us the history of the country and explain somewhat the history of the political situation. It seemed like Greek to me when I read it page by agonizing page back in the summer and I was comforted when my roommates told me they couldn't understand it either. Even after explaining it to us, I'm sure Doug got a few blank stares. But lately it's become apparent to me that I can't endeavor to work in this country for peace, change, and passionate Christ-like action if I don't understand the current situation. Just because I've realized the need for my own political education, doesn't mean that I now know everything, but my ears have been more atuned to what people say, what's going on in the news, the front parts of travel books that have history portions, and the vast information on websites. In the next few paragraphs I hope to endeavor to share with you some of what I have learned and I'll take the approach I always take with my students- if you find the teacher's mistake you get to put a bean in the jar (you get bonus points!). So look into the situation yourself and email me with your comments and findings, because as we learn about the situation together you will feel what I feel, that all of you who take the time to read this blog and support me with prayers and thoughts are involved in this year with me.

Now is an interesting time in Northern Ireland's history. November 24, today, was to be the deadline for choosing a first minister and deputy minister for the devolved government of Northern Ireland. That means that Britain had set today as the deadline to choose those 2 positions from the leading political parties of Northern Ireland (DUP and Sinn Fein) so that Northern Ireland can make it's own political decisions here in Northern Ireland, at Stormont. There were smaller deadlines along the way that were not met, or were only met in portion. Skepticism and apathy are two emotions that I've heard in conversations with people about the power sharing agreement. Part of me understands those emotions. I recall how I felt such a sense of hope when I thought about the possibility that in my time here Northern Ireland could really make strides in working together in government. Then as decisions come down or deadlines pass, I've seen parties still approach government with an "if they do this, then we will hold up our end" mentality. I can see how people are disillusioned and skeptical about the progress of their government. One woman remarked today, "Catholics and Protestants are just different kinds of people. There is something just different about how they work [think]." This is a divided society where people still keep to their own communities and avoid certain activities or areas because they feel unsafe or unwelcome.

I don't understand it all, but people are willing to talk if you're willing to listen and approach with humility. They talk about times when they had to call loved ones at work and warn them to go home by another way because or road blocks or bomb threats. People will tell you about the feelings they get when they walk through a "different" area. Those are the stories that tell about what people are dealing with, what they carry as they try to face the issues of their country.

I think especially of the youth, the ones that I see at Whitehouse and the ones in the area that I hope I will have the chance to work with. I've been encouraged that the congregation of Whitehouse really sees the youth as the future of their church and really does value them. I wonder if the youth themselves see the crucial role that they play. I went to a conference last Saturday entitled "Deal or No Deal" and it was about the upcoming political deadline, sponsored by the Presbyterian Church in Ireland and focusing on the role of peacemaking. A youth worker mentioned that some youth do not even know what the Troubles were. They are left to sort through and make the most of the baggage of a time they know very little about. I hope that I'll have the chance to talk to them about what they think about all of this and what they hope for their future. I hope that they would see their place in all of it, as peacemakers and dearly loved children of God, in communicating the attitudes of Christ in all areas of change in Northern Ireland.

On Tuesday I attended a "Building Blocks" conference with Liz and Doreen. Marlene LeFever, from Cook Communications in the US, was the speaker for the conference and author of several books about education young Christians using their various learning styles to create more effective lessons. I was miffed by a few things that Marlene said. First, that she didn't give any credit to Howard Gardner for his theory of multiple intelligences, which was really what she was talking about except that she had condensed it to 4 learning styles. Secondly, she said that no one was one specific style, but she forced us to choose a preferred one for ourselves and then gave descriptions of each that were very distinct and almost made you feel embarrassed about your choice. But I benefited from the conference in a lot of ways also. Once again I saw the harshness with which some Americans can attack an issue or discuss a topic. (Of this, I am also guilty so this is no pot and kettle situation.) I was reminded of learning styles and how exciting the implications are for education and the individuality of learners. As a teacher, it means that you have good reason to be creative and varied because your learners are too! I gained new energy for the youth and children's programs that I'm involved in at Whitehouse and even for when I return home, because I was reminded to apply my teaching knowledge to a different setting. If we create a boring environment in our churches for youth and children they will learn to see church as they do school. Then we will have lost the potential for sharing the message of Christ simply because we lost the vision for the learner before us.

Lastly, we took a look at youth during the conference. At one point I was even given the role of a Northern Irish youth and had to describe my weekends, my favorite things, and my challenges. I talked about the things I had observed about the youth I work with over the past 3 months. As Marlene stated some of the characteristics of this group that makes up 1/2 of the world's population, I thought about how we can sometimes be too eager to observe for fear of joining in and getting dirty. I've observed the young people I work with and slowly crawled out of my comfort shell to start enjoying life alongside them, but there is so much more to be done. This group is characterized as

• taking consumerism for granted
• having seen enough advertizements to expect that you are lying
• self-reliant, do not trust their elders
• rely on family, but define family as anyone in their set who loves them and takes care of them
• not as pessimistic and cynical as perceived
• into American stuff that is exported
• have pride in their nation, but feel their place in the worldwide sector
• want to see the world and make friends with people all over the world through mass media
• mediavores
• nonlinear cognitive system learners
• 93% watch TV
• 93% prefer to be with friends
• conscious of saving the world, on their terms in their space
• want to save their block (or immediate area, neighborhood)

Those last two really struck me. If youth in Northern Ireland really do feel that way then now is really their time. They have the chance to affect change for peace in their neighborhoods by doing practical things and if Marlene is right and they want you to tackle tough issues with them and do practical service and mission projects then we have work to do and things to talk about.

I feel like I'm coming out of a fog that was my settling in time. When people are faced with difficult tasks they revert to their basic learning style. I think mine is analytical, because I'm sure those of you out there that know me well will agree that I severely analyze things and I am a fan of the list. My system of operating was shocked when I moved here and I reverted to my basic learning style: observing, being rational, deferring to authority, and being very thorough. Now as I get more comfortable I'm able to add in the style of learning that I'm glad is part of my personality, imaginative: people-oriented, asking the mental question of why, creating a colorful atmosphere, and learning by talking.

One of my greater challenges has been not being the smart one. I am not valued for my knowledge of teaching methods and research, my liberal arts education, or any of the other academic parameters which used to define me and validate me as an intelligent person. I am laughed at when I say something that is culturally a different word. I am valued for hard work. I feel embarrassed when I misspeak because I don't understand the politics or the history of this country. I am humbled and it has taken me 3 months to be okay with it, even though I said all along that I was ready for it. So now I want to meet the challenge of being humbled with the attitude of Christ, reaching out to "make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace." (Ephesians 4:3) I want to learn about the politics of Northern Ireland so I can talk authentically with the youth and challenge them to see the possibilities of the future and their place in it. I want to learn about the complexity of a divided society and infuse the places I encounter with the presence of someone who believes peace will be accomplished. But I want to tread softly, not with huge American boots, but with the soft feet of someone who wants to search for the good news with all the people I meet, seeking to live a life worthy of the calling.

Count Your Many Blessings

One of my first Monday nights at Girls Brigade, some of the leaders mentioned that the Seniors would like to put together a Thanksgiving dinner to learn how to prepare some of the traditional dishes, earn an entertaining badge, and comfort me on a special holiday when I'm far from home. We spent several Monday nights planning the menu, the guest list, learning about Thanksgiving in general, and even making sweet potato casserole! The girls were surprised that sweet potatoes could actually taste so sweet.


Preparing for Thanksgiving with the Seniors and leaders Maragaret, Sarah, Kim, and Janice made me feel not so far from home. I got to learn Mom's recipes when I desperately emailed her for them before GB one night. I shared a bit of Southern American culture by cooking with the girls, a tradition that I have enjoyed in my family throughout my life. And even if trying out a new holiday still felt awkward to some of them and they turned up their noses at the cinnamon in the sweet potatoes, it was fun for me and it dulled my heartache a bit. All along it was obvious to me that the girls and the leaders were really putting a lot of effort and thought into the celebration and it humbled me that they would do something, try something different with such grace and generosity.

So tonight was the big night and when Doreen and I arrived we were seated and served sparkling juice (red or white) by the girls. The table was set and as the guests arrived we chatted and enjoyed the relaxed fellowship of pride in what our Girls Brigade Seniors were doing.




We were seated, with placecards even, and our starter of melon and orange was served.

The girls were our servers and the leaders had taken time off work to come in early and be sure everything was ready. All the guests were folks who helped out with GB in various ways and we were all gushing over how well the girls were doing in their service.

When I got up to take the picture above, Liz made a comment when she was asked to join the picture. I told her that for Thanksgiving you suck in for the pictures and wear your elastic pants. Well, there I go again, forgetting that pants are underwear. The whole table was in stitches and it took me awhile to realize that I wasn't really funny. So for the rest of the night, Raymond laughed with me and made jokes about his pants and elastic pants. He will forever be "Uncle Raymond with the pants" and I will never live that one down!

Throughout the meal we heard jokes, talked about our families, talked about what a typical Thanksgiving is like, and enjoyed each others company completely. Somewhere between the brussel sprouts or turkey, talking about the beauty of South Carolina or the enormous blessing of family reuniting in a holiday specially designed for thanks even before Christmas, I paused long enough to reflect that this new extended family of mine had created an evening of thanks that gave comfort and joy to my heart in a way that was truly humbling. They captured the true spirit of Thanksgiving. We talked and laughed, shared a meal prepared by loving hands, and gave thanks throughout the evening with fellowship and genuine friendship and love. At the end of the night, the girls brought me a Willow Tree Angel of Friendship and said that they hoped the night had been a blessing for me, since I was far from home on a special holiday. My eyes filled with tears and my heart was overflowing thinking of my new friends and the amazing night they had given to me, and to all present. I am overwhelmed with gratitude, humbled by the grace of God in surrounding me with incredibly caring people who reached out to me and joined in the joy of celebration.

They are my family, this church and all the people I have met in Belfast. Only three months away, and they are my family. They laugh with me and at me, they surround me with love and thoughtfulness, and they walk with me as I stumble to follow God's will and join His purpose here in Belfast.

I think of the spirit that always was so palpable in Old Stone Church on Thanksgiving Day or in our kitchen as we made dinner. The ache of homesickness won't go away during the holidays and I live with it most days. It helps me to talk to God like an old friend and it helps me to be reminded to look for the beauty and joy in each day. But I felt that spirit, the Holy Spirit, there with us tonight in the lounge at Whitehouse. Thanksgiving came to us today, on a Friday, with bluegrass hymns in the background, friends gathered, laughter shared, and for these and many other blessings, Lord I am truly thankful.

Finally, at my Grandmother's memorial service we sang "Count Your Many Blessings." I cried and laughed my way through the song, because my mother's maiden name is Blessing and the hymn was also a pun about the vast number of our family, the Blessings. I often count my blessings here in Belfast and mostly my journal entries are just lists of things that have made me happy. This day will truly go down as one and I pray for all of you that read this, that your Thanksgiving will truly be a celebration where you can count your many blessings name them one by one, count your many blessings, see what God has done!

A Maze of Walls

Yesterday was Rememberance Sunday, which is much like our Veterans Day. It is a day when people commemorate lives lost in the World Wars, the Troubles, and in present struggles around the world, inlcuding Iraq. In Belfast people wear poppies to remember the Battle of the Somme where the field was stained with the blood of fallen soldiers and now red poppies bloom. To some people wearing the poppy is not only an act of remembrance, but a symbol of allegiance to the Queen of England. This was more true during the times of the Troubles, but even today you are less likely to see someone from a Catholic/Nationalist background wearing a poppy than a Loyalist/Protestant.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/religion/remembrance/
This BBC site has some interesting information on Remembrance.

With a tense history surrounding Remembrance Liz took a different approach and chose to focus on peacemaking and forward movement into a shared future. Whitehouse launched a discipleship course, “The Gospel in Conflict” on Sunday evenings and Liz wanted to echo that in her sermon on Sunday. She asked me to do the children’s focus and discuss what it means to love your neighbor. I was very nervous, because I feel like children’s sermons are like teaching in front of a lot of evaluators. So Doug gave me some advice on our retreat and with a few practice runs on Doreen, the deaconess, and my roommates I was ready to go.

The service started with the Act of Remembrance which includes laying of wreaths, a bugle call with a poem read, silence, prayer, and the National Anthem (“God Save the Queen”). I did my children’s sermon and felt an amazing enjoyment being there with the children. When I asked who their neighbor was one wee boy replied, “Eugenia and Alex!” I talked to them about how some people don’t know the love of God and their hearts are cold like ice cubes. I have never seen such excitement about touching an ice cube! But Jesus calls us to love our neighbor, which is everyone, and that means surrounding their hearts with our warm love. So each child held an ice cube and felt it melt. I also talked with them about how the water in their hand is like how we always get something in return when we love someone. It was such a blessing to be there with them, to see the genuine excitement of approaching the Kingdom of God like a child. I truly hope they made the connection and will endeavor to surround their neighbor with warm love.

Then Liz stood to give her sermon. She began with a story about an Indonesian man who had gone to England to study and was living with a family. He went to his minister and complained that he needed to be moved because he was not getting on well with his host family. He explained how the woman looked down on him. On one occasion he was eating an orange. As he began to peel she instructed him to get a plate, knife, napkin, be careful, and so on. He remarked that she looked on him as an uncivilized fellow because he did not know how to eat an orange. He looked upon her as an uncivilized woman because she did not know how to enjoy an orange. The point was that it is amazing how small differences can get seriously out of proportion and be difficult to sort out.

If an orange can create a barrier, how much more a wall…
Liz showed slides of the Great Wall of China, the Berlin Wall, and the wall being erected in Iraq by the Saudis. She talked about the lives sacrificed in the building of the Great Wall, the hope of the day when the Berlin wall came down, and how even Mary and Joseph would be stopped in their tracks by the wall now going up on the way to Bethlehem.

And then she showed a picture of a Belfast peace line. There are now 41 peacelines or district barriers in Belfast, not Northern Ireland, but Belfast alone. Peacelines are used to separate Catholic/Nationalist areas from Protestant/Loyalist areas.

Houses along the lines became derelict because of petrol bombs and other objects thrown over them. There are even a few peacelines that you can drive directly through, but they are closed during times of tension. Peacelines can be a blaring, high, barbed wire wall or even a wall that has since been covered with growth to make it less stark. It has always been ironic to me that you need a wall to have peace. There are over 20 kilometers of peace wall in North Belfast.

Walls here are also covered with images, murals of allegiance and declarations of belief.


These physical markers stand, but there are also invisible barriers. People are reluctant to travel in areas where there used to be tension, in neighborhoods less like their own. Liz even mentioned me and where I live. Sometimes people in the congregation have expressed sympathy for me when they hear that I live in the New Lodge area, which is strongly Nationalist. People say that an area “used to be nice” when they are simply referring to the fact that the Loyalists have moved out and the Nationalists have moved in. This movement can also be referred to as “the greening” or Catholics moving into an area that used to be largely Protestant.

Race is also increasingly becoming a barrier in Northern Ireland and sexual orientation. The Community Relations Officer of Newtonabbey reported that she has been out 24 times to victims of racial attack. Barriers are created where difference is noted and in an effort to increase our security, making an “us” and a “them” we put people in a box or behind a wall.

In Ephesians Paul writes that Christ is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us. Christ has broken down the dividing wall! When Jesus died, the temple curtain was torn in two, proving that God cannot be contained within walls, even the walls of the temple. God’s love is not within bounds, walls, or divisions and He calls us to join him in breaking them apart. “There is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, men or women, for we are all one in Christ Jesus.” Jesus calls us to abandon our prejudice and trade it for a shared vision.

As Liz delivered her sermon, which I’ve sort of paraphrased and added my own embellishments to here, I was struck by the bravery of my minister. How she stood with enthusiasm before the congregation and delivered a sermon that artfully, unwaveringly, faced the issues before all of us. In my first months in Northern Ireland I have observed a dichotomy. People who want to talk about the Troubles, talk about the current issues in government, society, and even our own communities. I have also observed people who dance gracefully around everything and keep peace by layering silence on top of it. I think what I have learned most from this dichotomy and from the bravery of Liz’s sermon yesterday, is that we in the United States could really learn a lot. Here, the lines of division are raw, painted, flagged, and labeled. There are also the divisions that bubble under the surface and are exchanged in a glance. In the States, we have a few labels on our boxes, a few defined divisions, such as race, gender, sexual orientation, and political view. Most of the time we don’t have much trouble talking about them, but we do hesitate to make much of them.

“History is going to judge us in this country,” Liz said. “Our grandchildren are going to ask us, ‘What did you do to make a difference?’”

History will judge us in our own country as well. What did you do to make sure that all people were treated equally? What did you do to stand up for what you believe in, in a way that affected change? What did you do to eliminate and break down the walls that built a maze around you? What did you do to ensure that there is no longer them and us and share the message that we are all one in Christ Jesus and God’s love knows no bounds? What did you do to make a difference?

How do you know when the night has passed and the day has come?

When you can look into the eyes of every person you meet and see that they are your brother or sister, because until you are able to do this, the night will never end and the day will never dawn.

Miracle Maker

Children as young as 3 develop prejudice, noticing physical and racial differences. 1 in 6 children in Northern Ireland are making sectarian comments by the age of 6, that's a comment that relates to a characteristic of being Catholic or Protestant. From this age there is only an increase in discriminatory perception in children. NIPPA, NICIE, and Queen's University are working together on a media initiative project which has recently launched a series of children's cartoons that focus on a group of children, some of whom have physical, ethnic, and background differences. The idea is that through nursery schools, parent programs, and other public awareness initiatives children will be exposed to positive images, be able to recognize exclusion, and be given the tools to begin practicing inclusion exhibited by a willingness to include others.
www.mifc-pii.org (for more on the Media Initiative)

Last week, I attended the "Respecting Difference" seminar at Ulidia Teacher's Centre with at least 20 other participants from Nursery Schools around Belfast. The first day we examined our own attitudes by looking at prejudices against cultural groups that we carry as we seek to introduce a program of respect to our children. The second day we looked at the materials in the packets we will receive. They include the DVD of the 3 media messages, each one dealing with a different topic. We spent time at 3 different tables with the materials associated with each media message. In small groups we discussed the developmental appropriateness of the materials, usability, and other aspects. We concluded the day by talking about how we would implement the program, make the parents aware, and inspire parent support.

Over the two days I noticed some interesting comparisons between the Northern Irish school system and what I know of the American school system. Firstly, all teachers desperately want the support of parents. We truly do believe that parents are the first and best teacher and we want to be unified with parents to help children succeed as people. Second, even in Northern Ireland, teachers feel pressed for time. I heard more than one group say, "I just keep wondering where I will have time to fit this in with everything else." The challenge of implementing all the programs that will benefit our children is something that educators worldwide deal with and it takes humility to discern what to prioritize. I found solidarity in talking with the other teachers and nursery workers there. It reminded me what it feels like to be a teacher and I actually found comfort in discussing some of the same struggles that I was running from when I applied to be a YAV.

I learned about the conflict over the two days as I listened to people from both sides react to the portrayl of the different groups in the materials. In conversation with the people in my group, they taught me about customs of the culture and their hopes for the future. The third media message is entitled, "Playing the Same Game" and it shows one group of children playing with Loyalist/Protestant band equipment like a drum and a baton, while the other group of children is playing with a Hurling stick and ball, usually associated with Republicans/Catholics. Puzzles to go along with the message where intend to portray the cultures of the two groups by showing celebrations or festival photos. There was a photo of an Orange Order parade, which everyone felt looked too busy and most children who had used the puzzle thought it was a funeral. There was also a photo of St.Patrick's Day and the majority felt that photo made it look dull and trite. As an observer and an outsider I tried to make generic observations and filter my comments through an educational lens, but you could feel the tension in the room at times. I was reminded that in all cultures, even in ours in the United States, there are cultural tensions just under the surface. There are wounds of bitterness, stemming from differences in understanding or lack of understanding that permeate all cultures. Yet here I am with the unique opportunity to learn from another culture and how they are positively surrounding children with ways to address difference. Bill told me that because of the Troubles Northern Ireland would have had less immigrants in the past 30 years. Now as the number of immigrants increases and the religious and political differences of the Troubles are coming into the light of open and productive dialogue, there is much to be learned from progress in Northern Ireland.

We could learn to recognize when someone is left out
We could learn to remember the anguish of being excluded
We could reach out to someone in need
We could value others
We could accept religious differences
We could lay bitterness aside, sacrifice it for the sake of peace and progress
We could forgive
We could break the circle and include everyone

The weekend before I attended the seminar, I went to a concert with the youth from Whitehouse to see Delirious. Nothing has inspired me so much about the future of Belfast as when I saw the youth gathered on the floor at that concert praising God. At one point they sang in a unified voice about God at work in their city through them. As I've gotten to know the youth at Whitehouse, the children at the 174, the teachers at the seminar, the other people I work with at church and the Trust, I am humbled by God at work in Northern Ireland.



There are days when it's difficult. Days when I feel more acutely the sting of being separate from everyone I love and the places that defined me. There are days when I feel misinterpreted, because English is not always Southern English and being laughed at isn't always easy to shrug off. Moments of isolation when I want people to know who I am and how much I care, but I'm not sure where to begin. But God reminds me, in all those people I mentioned above and in new experiences everyday, that His power is perfect in my weakness. He doesn't need me to show how good He is, He would accomplish it anyway, but being here is a gift because there is so much I can learn if I only open my eyes to the work of the Miracle Maker.


Miracle Maker

I’m waiting here for my life to change,
When the waters stir you can rearrange me.
Just one touch is all I need,
I’ve nothing much but the wounds I feel,
I’m looking for the hand of the miracle man.

Holy, you are holy,
Who was and is and is to come.
Holy, you are holy, Saviour, Healer,
I’m standing at the feet of the miracle maker.

I’m holding on, with your life in mine,
Living water’s come,
And you’ve rearranged me.

Holy you are holy,
Who was and is and is to come.
Holy, you are holy,
Saviour, healer,
I’m staring in the face of the miracle maker.

Holy, you are holy,
Who was and is and is to come.
Jesus, precious Jesus,
Thank you, Saviour,
I’m walking in the shoes of my miracle maker.
I’m standing with the faith of a miracle maker.

Written by Delirious? ©2005 Curious? Music UK

it's also a vegetable

I'm sitting here in the dining room listening to the sound of fireworks exploding all over the city of Belfast. For years fireworks have been banned from the city and now, on Halloween, they make up for lost time. We've heard fireworks sporadically since the beginning of October, but for the past week they have been a nightly occurence leading up to the celebration of Halloween tonight.

Halloween in Belfast falls in the middle of the school term which means that schools and programs often take a break this week. This week I have only Alpha on Wednesday and a little bit of work to do at the Trust. I'm also hoping to catch up on blogs, journalling, reading, planning for the Christmas play, and general thoughtful type things that I push aside during a normal week. When I first realized that I had all this unexpected free time I was overwhelmed. There are so many things to do and see in and around Belfast. But I'm taking the advice of David Smith and just letting myself enjoy it.

The enthusiasm surrounding Halloween is infectious. For weeks my roommates have been discussing their costumes and we even decorated our little place on Thorndale. The kids at the Trust have been talking about what they will be and drawing pictures to plan their costumes. Every time we go out to play basketball in the street we're asked what we're going to be. So yesterday I planned my costume and along with my roomies put together my outfit for tonight.

I have always loved Halloween, probably because it is an excuse to give children candy and go crazy over the "creativity" of their costumes.
Store bought costumes have always been a bit of a cop out to me, maybe because my mom used to let me put on whatever my little heart desired to parade around to the 3 or 4 neighbors we had. She was always so accepting and encouraging of my innovative mind. So after brainstorming with the roommates I decided to be a black eyed pea. See my black eye and my block letter P!

We got dressed up with the same excitement as little kids who have been waiting all week to pull out the sheets and masks. I was pleased to explain my costume to a family we met in the queue for the bus and even more excited when it made them laugh. "Isn't that a rock group?" Asked the little girl. "Yeah, but it's also a vegetable," responded Alison. We took a bus into City Centre and a shuttle to the Odyssey where they were hosting festivities in the car park such as fire baton twirlers, people on stilts, bands, and games.







We stood in the 37 degree weather watching the huge fireworks display coordinated to music. As we walked back to the shuttle we saw some great costumes including a banana, Uncle Sam, a robot (classic fridge box with tinfoil!), a pest control squad, and a penguin. There is solidarity in looking silly in a costume.




Tonight the electricity of joy and excitement was thick in the air of Belfast. Families were out with little ghosts, skeletons, and princesses up on shoulders craning to see the fireworks. You know the times of year when people walk with a smile in their step because their just so full of happiness? I loved being around to see that tonight and to see Halloween come alive in a different, vibrant way.

More and more as I live in my corner of Belfast, I love and appreciate this city. I remember that what Neely and I particularly loved about Europe the first Furman Singers tour was the little cafes and quirky shops. I love Belfast City centre for it's coffee, quirky shops including great finds at Primark, the lights around City Hall at night, the sculpture of the woman on the globe overlooking the Lagan River, the lights on the water, and the way it's a thriving city but it still feels small enough that you don't feel insignificant. I love the outgoing and friendly nature of people who speak to you on a bus and smile at your costume. I love my walk to the bus at Yorkgate and the people I pass opening stores or seeing the children playing outside at the nursery school. I love soaking in the things about this place that I will miss in tiny moments of my life when I return home.

Brave

I am a teacher. It's one of many roles and identifiers that I've struggled with since I moved to Belfast six weeks ago. When I first arrived telling people that I was a schoolteacher was a way of sharing with them my educational and career background all at once, as well as telling them something about myself, I think kids are neat. At the afterschool project it was a way of saying that I was already "one of them" in some way, that I was a person who worked with children. But one of the keys of the afterschool group is that it is a place that stresses play and creativity and I am often told that it's "not school" when I suggest an idea. In my opinion, it seems that the view is that school is too rigid and because of my teaching background I risk being viewed as a strict person, based on the view of teachers in the area. I find myself sitting back a lot and observing instead of my normal habit of taking initiative and throwing ideas around. It's not my role in the afterschools to be a schoolteacher. It is not my place to come in and blast my ideas. I am finding the sitting back and observing to be a challenge. I felt like I was working so much, but when I really jotted down my hours I realized that it was actually very little compared to how much I would work on a weekly basis in the States. How could I be so tired and not be working as much? Am I sick? But I've been blessed with some time to process lately and what seems to be the difference is that we are now truly putting into practice "being instead of doing." It is my job to "be" at the afterschools, to develop relationships with the children, their parents, and my cooworkers. Romantically, you could see that as such a wonderful thing, to just "be," but in actuality it has taken a toll on me. I am being challenged to be effective in areas that cannot be measured and in ways that I may never see the fruits. I'm struggling to identify my role and how to be effective, how to change my little corner of the world in Belfast, when in fact I think my mom said it best when she said, "You may never know your role." Is it enough to just be? When I leave will they still see that my heart was always full of a desire to care sincerely and do all I could? I feel like I'm being lazy because I'm not "doing" something like a project, or a lesson, or someting tangible you could read a lesson plan for. There's no nice wrap up resolution to this struggle. It will evolve and change and I may truly never know my role. But this week I choose to tackle part of the struggle, to not let my body shut down in fatigue because I have become complacent with status quo. Just because my role has changed doesn't mean my passion for people has to. This week I hope to refocus and ignite an energy for capturing every moment and making it meaningful. "Whatever you're doing, be all there." I want to be all here, making the most of whatever role I'm given at the time and trusting fully that each moment is orchestrated in God's purpose for my year in Belfast.

It's strange to think of trusting in God to give you energy for contentment. It's equally as strange to think of trusting God to guide your tongue not to embarrass you and to communicate your true purpose. If you know me at all, you know I can often say some stupid things. I think David Lamotte wrote the song "Ten and a Half" for me actually, because I am the queen of foot in mouth to the point that I'm fun to have at parties. The interesting part about serving in a country that technically speaks the same language is that they don't. Beyond the sayings and different names for objects, there is a subtle current of cultural difference. It's not even something you can put your finger on, but sometimes I will say something and I can tell by looking at the face of the person I'm speaking to, that my meaning is totally lost. Likewise, someone will be speaking to me and I think we've understood each other but later come to find that in fact I missed something. Now bearing that in mind, follow me through the next bit.

I LOVE PHAB club on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. It's a place where I enjoy the "being" aspect. In the youth club we entered a photo contest for volunteering around Belfast and I had the best time in City Centre with the group, taking photos to enter. I have loved getting to know the members and having fun with them in all the different activities Linda plans for them. On Thursday nights, the adults are working with the New Belfast Arts Project to create a DVD. Evelyn, the coordinator, is also working with me at the afterschools and I have already learned so much from her in a short amount of time. Her genuine concern and care for the adults permeates the group and they have a sense of community and fun that I find so exhilirating.

Being around this group is a place where I truly feel I can be myself and be appreciated, no matter what I offer or how little or much I have to give.

Last night we went out to dinner at the Chester, so we could take a fun night in between our DVD shooting. I rode the bus to pick up several of the members. The first person we picked up is in a wheelchair and I got made fun of quite a bit for not knowing how to work the lift or put the straps on properly to secure the chair in the van. Later she told the other folks at the restaurant that I was "trying to kill her." We enjoyed our dinner anyway, having great craic and much more banter than just my lift skills. It was easy for me to see why they all mentioned how much they enjoy their nights out.


On the way home Pat and I were joking with the girl in the wheelchair about wearing her belt since the bus bounces a bit over the humps in the streets. When we hit a bump I quipped that I bet she wished she had her belt and then asked her about her other chair that is her "speedy" version, as she told me last week. She was giving a lift to a young boy who is coming our group since his mom is one of the videographers. I asked her if she was bringing it and she said, "You never break a promise to a child because they are so precious." As I agreed I was smiling at the amazing gift of getting to know people and learning from them. As Pat was driving me home he asked me about my experience with people with differences. I told him that mostly I had worked with children with learning disabilities in my classroom. He said that the word "disability" is not widely used in Northern Ireland anymore. Even thought our project is called such, it's a term that isn't used often. He also said that I may have offended the girl asking about her wheelchair belt. It's an issue of independence and by asking, in my view I was making conversation, I might have put her off a bit. I was humbled. I felt angry at myself for not being more sensitive and I felt confused because I was just beginning to feel I could come out of my shell a bit and get to know people and I was already making mistakes. I felt paralyzed, thinking that I would have to go back to just being quiet in the corner and observing until I knew people better and knew enough not to offend them. But last night I was listening to my iPod and I heard the song by Nicole Nordeman "Brave." In the bridge of the song the lyrics say, "I've never known a fire that didn't begin with a flame and every storm will start with just a drop of rain, but if you believe in me that changes everything." And it reminded me that God believed in me enough to send me here and give me a place with that group. Communication is never perfect. We will fail and misinterpret simply because we are human, but that's no reason not to try. I knew this year I would look stupid a lot, but I believed in my ability to laugh at myself and move on. So I'm hoping that as I endeavor to be brave, step out, and get to know people I'll be able to show them my flaws, but I'll also be able to show them that I would never want to insult them, that I only want to appreciate them, and that I am, even with a degree in learning disabilities, still learning and have a lot to learn. I hope that people will see in me the genuine concern and interest in who they are that I want to convey and live. I hope that God will give me the strength to be brave when I'm afraid of messing up and the energy to focus on where He has me in this journey right now.

Hillsborough

Below are some pictures from our trip to Hillsborough last Friday. Doug and his wife, Elaine, took us there on a short day trip. We walked around the castle which is where the queen will still stay on her visits. I don't remember all the history, but I remember how walking around the lake made me think of Furman and home. It even had swans! All of the swans in the UK are protected by law because technically they belong to the queen. It was a beautiful day and it felt liberating to breathe deeply and to see water and wildlife. If only for a moment, my ache for South Carolina sun and Lake Keowee were a little calmer.

It's the same in any language

On Tuesday and Thursday nights I work at the 174 Trust with the disabilty projects for youth and adults. Tonight, being a Thursday, I went over to the Adult group where we've been working with the New Belfast Arts Project to create a DVD done entirely by the group members which highlights the group, it's members, and hopefully shares about it's importance so the community can see what an asset it has. Over the past 3 weeks I've gotten to know the group members as they've been shy to get up in front of the camera, or eager to get behind the scenes, or today when they got to try on wigs and laugh at each other. Through conversations with them I've found how much the 174 trust project means to them. It means they can gather once a week for a night out. Many of the members may be in day centers or cared for by family members. Their Thursday night is a night just for them when they can have fun being themselves. They enjoy outings like shopping and other day trips they've gone on through the project. Many of them have made genuinely close friendships through the meetings, just by the reassurance of a strong voice saying their name with an inviting tone. Being around this group you cannot help but laugh, smile, and be enfolded in the sincerity of friendship. The craic is great with one man trying to get me to sing Merle Haggard, another ribbing me about not noticing his glasses, and me trying to get the girls to jump in front of the camera for a glamor shot.

Tonight someone brought a keyboard and one of the members, who is blind and uses a seeing eye dog sang for us. She sang 2 hymns for us and then another lady got up and sang 2 traditional Irish songs. One about marrying a boy she loves and the other about a sailor. The coordinator went around and asked people if they knew other songs and when she came to me she remembered that someone somewhere must have let it out of the bag that I sing. So I went back to the first performer for suggestions and even asked her to join me in a hymn, thinking surely I would know one she knew. After naming several with no luck of recollection on my part, we were about to sing "White Christmas" when I remembered "How Great Thou Art" from singing it in Alpha and Sunday nights in Whitehouse. We sang the hymn together, three verses, and she even harmonized on the last part. As we sang, other members joined in, some who are almost nonverbal and some whom I have not spoken with much before. I looked around the room at the mouths moving and remembered a moment in high school during a service project.

We were volunteering at a nursing home and there was a woman doing table games with us who would not respond at all. She wouldn't play or speak to us and the nurses seemed content to let her sit there. Then we started singing some songs and this woman came alive. She remembered words to songs with perfect clarity and sang with beautiful precision. That moment was an inspiration to me, when I first thought I would do music therapy for geriatric patients. Now as I sit here with my masters degree in a box somewhere back home, a degree that has little to do with music and more with a passion for sharing apprecation for people with differences, I am amazed at how this moment happened tonight. It was a gift, a perfect gift, that truly made me smile from the inside out. We all have differences, sometimes those of us without a "disability" often have deeper differences. But the language of friendship, the communication of fellowship in the commonality of a song, and the beauty of a hand or heart extended in respectful desire of knowledge of each other is the same no matter who you are.

Norn Iron English

"WE LOVE NORN IRON" reads graffitti on my bus ride home from Whitehouse. I have got to take that picture and post it here! I am following in the footsteps of Chris, my predecessor, and making a Northern Irish translation post. I completely intend to add to it as the year goes on and have already enlisted the help of everyone I work with, as they've had to explain many of these words and phrases to me. I find it true also, the parallels between Northern Ireland and the South. Crazy, I know, but they aren't afraid to drop a g at the end of a word either. The people are outgoing, friendly, easy to laugh with, and quick to welcome you with a hug (or kiss). So I hope to share with you a bit of the warmth you get from the phrases and sayings, and a bit of the laughter I've enjoyed while learning them.

Northern Irish- Southern English

wee- small (they even say "bless her wee heart")

half eight 8.30- eight thirty 8:30

how 'bout ya- how are you doing?

aye- yes

trainers- tennis shoes

pants-underwear

trousers- pants (see previous post for laugh about this one, talk to Harris for ideas on where to get pants for cheap)

craic- fun or good time (there's going to be good craic at church tonight)

cracker-jokster, funny person (had to clarify this one after one of my afterschool kids was called a "cracker" not so good in the South)

dead on- exactly right

on- something is happening, or you are "it" in the game (ie, Lauren's on!- where upon the children run from me screaming because I am about to chase them down)

lie in- sleeping late

knock you up- knock on your door, come to see you

call- come to see you

ring you- call you on the phone

aye- yes (not to be confused with "I")

yous'ns- y'all

them'ns- them

break- snack

jumper- sweater or sweatshirt

track suit bottoms- track suit pants

chips- french fries

crisps- chips

biscuits- cookies (not too sweet, sweet biscuits are called cookies)

tray bakes- brownies

jelly- Jello

jam- jelly

bap- enormous roll (bigger than a yeast roll)

manse- minister's house

toilet/loo- bathroom, restroom

homeworks- homework
cereals- cereal
afterschools- afterschool

rubbish- trash

bin- trashcan

Note: How you take your tea is important. You need to know if you would like...
1) Tea or coffee
2) White or black (with or without milk, specifying how white or black you like)
3) Sugar (how many? which means how many spoonfuls)

I have also learned how to make toast. Yes, toast. After making "toast" for break one day, I was confronted by another worker. "What is that with the butter on it?" She said. "It's toast," I replied. "No, it's not, put it in the bin." I was then taught that toast must be brown, not just crispy, but brown and preferably medium darkness. Only then can one put butter on the toast and then you must cut it in half. I now happily tease this person about how I will force her to eat my toast. :) She also really likes the way I make coffee. :)

Picking up starfish, one at a time...

I had never heard of Tear Fund before today. A representative spoke in our service this morning at Whitehouse about the Tuberculosis epdidemic in Pakistan and how Tear Fund works to provide medicine for people infected with the disease. Their goal is to irradicate TB from Pakistan. They also provide spiritual support in conjunction with the physical support. So in the words of Andrew, "It can't just be a soul kitchen, you have to have the soup." Well, Tear Fund has the soup going on, we had that for lunch too and the proceeds benefitted Tear Fund.

Tonight, the former youth coordinator for Tear Fund came and spoke to the Contact Club. She started by doing an activity called "Lift the Label" which I've done with third graders before to demonstrate interdependence in economics. You look at the label on your clothing and think about where it came from. The activity can be found on the Tear Fund website www.tearfund.org. Then we watched a video about the garment factories in Bangladesh, where youth were working for 16-20 hours to earn minimal wages. Wages that would be ludicrous to us for an hour were their weekly wage.

The leader went on to read from Exodus, when God first speaks to Moses (Exodus 3:7-8) "I have seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt, and have heard their cry because of their taskmasters; I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey..." She said that this passage shows our God as a God of compassion, moved to respond as He heard and saw the sufferings of His children. God hears the sufferings of the people working in the garment factories for unfair wages. God sees the struggles of the people who live in slums and cannot afford to imagine a better life. "How would you feel to be that person?" We were asked. Jesus tells us to clothe the poor, yet it is the poor who are clothing us.

We watched an excerpt from Prince of Egypt where Moses is before the burning bush and hears this message from God. The speaker asked us what would have happened if Moses had not responded. One of youth responded that something like what happened to Jonah probably would have happened. God would have chosen someone else, or gotten His way eventually. We have a choice to respond. If we don't respond to what we feel God nudging us to do, the challenge He suggests, we are in fact the only loser. God will accomplish His purpose anyway. God will get the job done, but our life will not have been enhanced by the power of God through it.

But how do we respond? Is this another speech about the growing atrocities of free trade and globalization where I will just end up feeling helpless as I watch the socioeconomic gaps widen? Where to begin? When you're shopping, stop to think if you really need that item. Where did it come from and do you think the workers were treated equitably? If not, Tear Fund has cards you can mail to the manufacturer to request a report on how workers are treated. Now, I know if you're like me it's all well and good, but you may not do it every time because you're nervous about looking like a radical or you really think that top is perfect, but I think that's the beauty. It may not be a big gesture, but it's a thought, an effort at all, however occasionally. Also, there are cards to give to supermarkets requesting Fair Trade items. The stores in Belfast are fairly good about stocking items such as tea, coffee, chocolates, and flowers that are Fair Trade, but it's also about being aware yourself. I was so impressed that someone didn't just educate me about Fair Trade and equitable working conditions, they gave me concrete activities to include in my life. She gave us manageable ways to start affecting change. If you visit the Tear Fund website you'll also see where youth can register for free text messages with ideas of how to be more aware and concious of their buying power. I felt empowered and validated for small efforts.

As I prepared to leave for Belfast I was desperately trying to read up on my "Brief History of Northern Ireland." After reading the same pages 3-4 times I felt like I was going to be an insult to the people I wanted to serve because I wouldn't know the history. When we arrived Doug gave us an overview, that I understood, and told us that our lack of knowledge was fine, because we should hear it from the people who experienced it anyway. Since I've been living here the signs are constantly there of the history of Northern Ireland. The streets I walk to pick up the children for afterschools are marked by flags and painted with murals commemorating the fallen volunteers or neighborhood heroes. Street signs are written in Irish and English and there are children's names I cannot pronounce or spell correctly. There is rubbish littering the streets because bins were once used as bomb hideaways and now no one is used to putting trash in a bin. There are people around me who, in casual conversation, I find have experienced the loss of a loved one or life change because of the lingering conflict. Sports, words, colors, names, foods, hobbies, are all divided. I do not understand the politics of it all. I do understand compassion though. I remember sitting in the Northern Ireland site meeting in April and being filled with the pain of years of suffering I could never fully comprehend. Listening to "Angus Dei" in the background where images of war passed the screen I felt like there was a way to show compassion even when I didn't understand. Even if all I can do is laugh with a child, hear a personal story, play a game with the youth, or sit at lunch with a senior church member then in some small way I feel I've spread the love that overflows in my heart because of what God has done for me.

The speaker from Tear Fund closed with a well known story about a young boy on a beach. Millions of starfish had washed up on the shore when a tidal wave hit. He was walking along, tossing them back in one by one, even as some were drying up on the sand. An old man came along and said, "Why are doing that? Don't you see that it doesn't matter?" The boy paid him no attention and picked another starfish up, tossing it to the water. "It mattered to that one."

A Pilgrim Song

Psalm 121 (The Message)
I look up to the mountains;
does my strength come from mountains?
No, my strength comes from God,
who made heaven, and earth and mountains.





He won't let you stumble,
your Guardian God won't fall asleep.
Not on your life! Israel's
Guardian will never doze or sleep.


God's your Guardian,
right at your side to protect you-
Sheilding you from sunstroke,
sheltering you from moonstroke.







God guards you from every evil,
he guards your life.
He guards you when you leave and when you return,
he guards you now, he guards you always.







Yesterday, the Thorndale girls went to Cave Hill Park. Ever since we arrived we had wanted to hike the trail to see the great views of Belfast and put ourselves in and among the mountains we see in the distance each day. We walked from the Antrim Road up to Belfast Castle.




It was a hazy day, with cool temperatures. Perfect for walking around the grounds of the castle without feeling too hot. There is a legend that as long as a cat lives on the grounds of Belfast Castle, it will be safe. There are stone cats built into the gardens and even kitty footprints in the cement by the fountain.








Cave Hill is just up from the castle and has several different trails you can take to the top or destinations along the way. After looking at the map to find it was a 4.3 mile hike (proper footwear encouraged) we decided we didn't have the energy for all of Cave Hill in one day, but would go to Devil's Punchbowl and then back. As we started our ascent I realized that I had been sitting around in the house a bit too much and that this was no South Carolina mountain stroll. Now, since I've told a few people that we went to Cave Hill I've heard mixed opinions about the intensity of the climb. Notice that I'm saying climb. I've even heard people say that when they were younger their family used to go there every Saturday for "walks." Well, I hope that by the time I leave here Cave Hill is a walk for me, but yesterday it seemed that with each step the bitterness hiding under the surface started to come out.

Each step was challenging emotionally more than physically as I let my mind vent homesickness and a general bad mood. As we neared the first lookout I was almost in tears as I realized that my lack of energy and poor attitude were a good indicator that I was feeling just a tad depressed. I was so angry with myself, as I stood looking over the city of Belfast, that here I was having this experience that I had anticipated would be a breath of fresh air and I was too caught up in emotions I didn't even know I was holding back to fully experience it. We walked past Devil's Punchbowl and to the cave and then turned around to come home. I felt folded into myself, ashamed that I was already feeling down, and disappointed that I had let a bad attitude have any residence in this experience. But I forced myself to laugh on the way down, I admitted to my roommates what I was feeling, and as Mrs.Broussard would say, I picked myself up by my bootstraps- chin up!

I was worried about already feeling homesick and feeling the strain of being somewhere different, surrounded by new people and things. I wanted to be tougher, to not let it get to me so fast, but I'm learning to forgive myself too. It's ok when things aren't as perfect as you planned or if your learning curve is not what you expected yourself to accomplish. It's ok to trust that God knows better than I do and that's why He brought me here. God reminded me yesterday, gently, that my trust is not in mountains and places that will calm my soul, but my trust is in the God who would call me here for His purpose. He will calm my soul. Quiet time with Him will quiet my spirit. My trust is in the the God who knows that I'm not perfect and there's not anything I can do for Him, but there is a lot He can do in me.

This week God healed an ache in me for my Greer girl talk when he blessed me with a chat with the Girls Brigade girls. We talked about "American" things like cheerleading and school. I let them help me with the Northern Irish lingo like "track suit bottoms" instead of "workout pants." God blessed me with their laughter at things Americans say that just don't make sense. This week God filled a hole by letting me help with homework at afterschool club, laugh, play, and dance with the kids. God lifted my spirits with fun this week as I went bowling with the Youth PHAB club and started work on a DVD project with the adult PHAB club. My spirit has been fed by the continued outreach of friendship from people at Whitehouse and 174. Hugs, smiles, banter, and concern fill my cup to overflow. I am gifted each day with new ways to get to know people, beyond just the introduction and start to make friendships. Connecting with people eases my homesickness and I'm blessed to be moving beyond just their names to knowing people better.

My community in Belfast is growing, and growing in depth. I know I will struggle more than just this weekend and my climb through my own challenges. My hope is that through my struggles, and sharing the struggles of others, ourselves will become interconnected in a web that beautifully displays God's love and grace. This hymn from church today really struck me as a perfect expression of the interdependence of the family of God and how, to truly show Christ, we must live in community with one another, loving one another completely.

Brother, sister, let me serve you,
let me be as Christ to you.
Pray that I may have the grace to
let you be my servant too.

We are pilgrims on a journey,
and companions on the road;
we are here to help each other
walk the mile and bear the load.

I will hold the Christ-light for you
in the night-time of your fear;
I will hold my hand out to you,
speak the peace you long to hear.

I will weep when you are weeping;
when you laugh I'll laugh with you.
I will share your joy and sorrow
til we've seen this journey through.

When we sing to God in heaven
we shall find such harmony,
born of all we've known together
of Christ's love and agony.

Won't you let me be your servant,
let me be as Christ to you?
Pray that I may have the grace to
Let you be my servant too.

-Richard A.M. Gillard, 1953

My Saturday as a Tourist

This morning we woke up, had a little brunch, watched Scooby Doo (enjoying the American voices) and then got ready for a day of sightseeing. We wanted to go see the famous fish down by the Lagan River and then do a few errands in the city centre. It was another beautiful day, with the sun shining and a wee breeze blowing. On the way to city center and throughout our morning I took the day off from being the volunteer who is trying to fit in and let myself be an unabashed tourist, taking many pictures. First off, I took one of me in front of the door because what kind of volunteer would I be if I didn't take my picture in front of the Thorndale house.



Every time we walk toward city centre, we cross the Carlisle Circus roundabout. This is where we first learned which way we would have to look not to get run over by a car. It's a lot trickier than you think it would be and Libby has saved my life with her "mom bar arm" more than once.


Immediately on the left after crossing the street is the Duncairn/St.Enoch's church which amalgamated with Whitehouse about 2-3 years ago. I have met a few folks who came from this congregation and now worship at Whitehouse. They are especially committed to cross-community outreach, which was a driving force for them staying in the largely Catholic community so long. They donated their building at Carlisle Circus to the 174 Trust and it is now used for many programs such as AA meetings, disability project, and youth fellowship. I find it interesting and reassuring that my two placements are so closely connected and that web of support of people who have the same vision for the area is inspiring.


And we're walking, we're walking...on the right is the Orange Hall. The Order of the Orange is a Loyalist organization named for William of Orange who defeated Catholic King James II. Orange Hall is no longer in frequent use because the area is now predominantly Catholic. Parades often originate from this area on significant dates and those routes can spark some riots and unrest.


I didn't mind stopping to take pictures, probably being marked as American for the millionth time, because after awhile these will become the buildings and places that I have passed so often for months. I hope that I can remember to be a tourist every now and then so I can truly share this experience with you. On our way through city centre to the waters edge we passed some fountains. I think there are some girls in Greer who might enjoy playing in these! Don't worry, the police were no where near, so they wouldn't ask you to leave the park!

Libby and I tried to look like we were in them without actually getting in. I hope you laugh at our failed attempt as much as we did!


This area on the way to the Lagan River also has some interesting random diversions such as the large water tornado...


The bell piano in the sidewalk that Libby figured out how to play "Mary Had a Little Lamb" on.


Libby was so enthusiastic about the piano and her new abilities that she didn't notice this little fella who wanted to play too. Notice his body language, poor guy.


The fish sits at the edge of the Lagan River. We've seen pictures of volunteers over the years in front of this fish and now it was our turn!


Before I thought the fish was a mark of the maritime history of Belfast, since it was known for its shipbuilding and most famously for the creation of the Titanic. Yet when we got closer we read some of the articles and captions imbedded in the sculpture. It seems also to reflect the struggle for peace and the overall history of Belfast.



There's another reason I felt called to Belfast. Northern Ireland is such a beautiful country. From our windows we can see the mountains in the distance and on my way home from church I pass the rocky coast and watch the spray crash on the rocks like a postcard. Today it was nourishing for my soul to be near water. Having grown up on a sailboat and a short drive from the Chattooga River, I feel incredible peace wash over me when I'm near a body of water. Overlooking the Lagan and peering around the corner I am reminded that the natural beauty of this place has yet to unfold itself in my adventures. I can't wait to explore Giant's Causeway, Cavehill, and the Antrim Coast. I long to be outdoors and feel the presence of God in nature in a way that cannot be truly explained. The pictures don't do the view justice, so you have to come visit.

We ended our day in city centre, passing the City Hall which is being renovated and restored.

We did some shopping at Primark which has cheap, fantastic clothes. We also "topped up" our bus journeys and then walked home, being careful to look before crossing the street.

I miss all of you very much. I miss Carolina sunshine, American football, hanging out with my family at tailgates, being picked on by cousins and Jonathan's friends even when I'm 25, Zoey dog sitting on my feet, the smell of summer on Windy Oaks Lane, downtown Gvegas, the Clock, the youth at Greer FPC and both of my church families. I'm learning to love tea time, laughing with my roommates in the kitchen and while we paint and organize our new home, the joy of the radiator turning on, popcorn made on the stove, the sunset view from our third floor landing, playing "football" with the kids at 174, and Northern Irish banter. Thank you for supporting me, loving me, and taking an interest in my journey.